


An Eye for an Eye

by toesalignedarch



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: (past) rich kids zuko and toph, Canon Compliant, Gen, Slice of Life, Western Air Temple, after Zuko joins the Gaang, chilling at the western air temple, inability to make soup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25405459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toesalignedarch/pseuds/toesalignedarch
Summary: The Gaang leave Zuko and Toph in charge of dinner. Chaos ensues.(inspired by @hollypunkers'spost:kind of obsessed with the idea of the rest of the gaang leaving Toph and Zuko to watch over some cooking food and when they come back its burned and Katara starts fuming but Toph and Zuko are like “we’ve never stepped inside a kitchen in our lives and only have one eye between us, if anything it’s your fault”)
Comments: 50
Kudos: 466
Collections: Our Adventures in Bending





	An Eye for an Eye

**Author's Note:**

> hello atla fandom, may I present to you my first fic?
> 
> I saw @hollypunkers's [post](https://hollypunkers.tumblr.com/post/619110328443322369/kind-of-obsessed-with-the-idea-of-the-rest-of-the) the other day and I simply _could not_ get the image out of my head, and so: voila!

"It's been over three hours, do you think they're okay?"

Sokka sighs. "Aang, stop worrying. It's just three hours, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Besides," Katara adds, adjusting the bag in her hand so that their newest purchases—some more paper for Sokka's planning (which uses a ridiculous amount of parchment), a new set of brushes, and a brand new ink stick—don't tumble out of the loose fabric. "Toph's a rebel, but she loves food too much to mess around with dinner."

"It's not Toph I'm worried about." Aang glances down the chasm, where he knows the Western Air Temple hangs beneath soaring cliffs and jagged rocks.

"You mean you're worried about _Zuko_?" Sokka asks incredulously. "What, are you worried your Sifu Hotman is going to _burn_ himself making dinner?"

Aang frowns. "No, no, not that."

Katara stops walking and turns to face him, brows furrowed. "Then what's bothering you, Aang?"

He scratches idly at the back of his neck, wondering how to verbalize the feeling of dread in his stomach. "I don't know... it's hard to explain."

"Well, maybe you're having a hard time thinking cause your stomach's empty," Sokka suggests.

"Are you describing Aang or yourself?" Katara retorts. Without waiting for a response, she presses a gentle hand to the back of Aang's shoulder. "Come on, Aang. Zuko and Toph are two of the best benders I've ever seen. Nothing bad could've happened to them while we were gone."

"Yeah," Aang mutters, only because he's not sure what else to say. When Katara's expression doesn't relax, he tries again. "Yeah," he says louder. "You're right. I'm not solving anything by worrying. Let's just get back to them."

His newfound optimism lasts only a few minutes, because when they scale down the cliffs and land on the dusty tiled floors, the entire temple is filled with acrid smoke. Somewhere in the blackness he can hear coughs and hissing and his heart leaps into his throat—

"Zuko! Toph!" he yells desperately, trying not to inhale any of the bitter air himself.

There's no response but the noises from where Zuko and Toph should be ceases for one heart wrenching moment before doubling; it sounds like they're frantically scrambling, and Aang can only make out occasional words—" _monkey feathers!_ " and " _hurry, hide it_ , _hide it"_ and " _back so soon?"_

"Aang, do something," Katara cries. Her hands are covered in water, but both she and Aang know that the little sack of water she carries with her is not enough to put out a fire capable of producing this much smoke.

"Hang on," Aang shouts and, lifting his hands to his chest, forcefully presses them downwards to his hips.

The smoke clears almost immediately, and in the residual clouds of dust he can finally make out four figures. Aang lets out a breath of relief when he recognizes a large mass on the side—that must be Appa—and a smaller creature flying above, chittering rapidly—Momo. Beside them, two human shapes are standing, frozen, with some large inanimate object between them.

Sokka charges into the dust first, boomerang in one hand and his new sword in the other. After sharing a confused glance, Katara and Aang follow him nervously, nearly crashing into him when he stops suddenly in his tracks, sputtering.

"W-Wha—what did—how the— _huh?_ _What?_ "

"Uh, hello there."

Zuko steps tentatively into view. He's wearing an apron, though it's hard to tell with the amount of ash and unidentifiable muck stuck to his clothes and his skin. He wields a charred lump of wood which, when he notices Aang staring at it, he quickly hides behind his back.

If Aang didn't know any better, he would interpret the expression that Zuko has as _sheepish_.

Katara gasps quietly before succumbing to a series of aching coughs. "What," she manages, "happened?"

"You see," the firebender begins to explain. "Toph and I—"

"Toph," exclaims Sokka like he's been hit with lightning. He begins to run around, kicking at bags and lifting supplies, all the while screeching, "Where's Toph?!"

"Calm down, Sokka. I'm right here."

She emerges from the dust and doesn't look much better—her green headband is now a sickly shade of yellow, the hair that dangles in front of her eyes have been singed slightly, and the rest of her is covered with the same ash-and-goop combo that's on Zuko.

Katara runs forward immediately with her hands outstretched and begins to wash off as much of the grime as she can. "What happened?" she asks again, staring in disbelief between Zuko and Toph.

"You three geniuses left me and Zuko in charge of dinner," Toph says accusatorially. " _That's_ what happened."

"What do you mean?" Aang asks, approaching the inanimate object he'd seen through the dust clouds. It takes him a second, but he starts when he realizes the puddle of half-molten metal is what remains of their cooking pot.

Sokka joins him and stares, flabbergasted, at the mess. "We left you that task because we thought you could handle it!"

"We _could_ handle it," Zuko replies indignantly at the same time Toph scoffs, "and who decided _that_?"

"I still don't understand," Aang murmurs. Turning to Zuko, he points at the pot—or, rather, the singed pile of metal that smells vaguely of carrots. "It was just... soup."

With an annoyed huff, Zuko crosses his arms. "Yeah, well, you didn't leave any instructions."

"It's _soup_ ," Aang says slowly, unsure how to make it any clearer. "You heat up water and put things in it."

"Well how were we supposed to know?" Toph retorts. She shakes off Katara, who's trying to rub some charred black marks from her arms, and steps to Zuko's side, mirroring his defensive posture.

"Katara's made soup, like, every day," Sokka says. "We watch her make soup _every day_."

"I don't," Toph mutters mutinously.

Sokka rolls his eyes. "Well, even if you can't, Zuko can!"

"Hey, don't blame this on me," Zuko snaps. "If anything, it's on you guys for not leaving instructions!"

"Yeah, it's not _our_ fault you three didn't think to give a recipe to the two people who have never set foot in a kitchen or made a meal ourselves before _in our lives_!"

"How dare you"—Sokka's puffed chest deflates as Toph's words register. "Oh, that's a fair point."

"But come on, you've seen me make it often enough—"

"—Katara, I _can't_ see—"

"— _I know that_ , I was talking about Zuko—"

"—too busy teaching the Avatar how to _firebend_ , so _sorry_ I didn't focus on how to make _soup_ —"

"—it's literally _just soup_! I don't understand—"

" _Guys_ ," Aang pleads, but it's futile; even Appa grunts in sympathy as the four argue passionately.

"And plus," Zuko interrupts, speaking so loudly that his voice carries over everyone else's. "Between the two of us, we only really have one eye. So if anything, it's _your_ fault."

" _My fault?!_ "

Aang sighs and sits. Quick as a flash, Momo flies over and curls up in his lap, big eyes staring up at him in puzzlement as the shouting gets louder and louder.

"—the _same_ _excuse_ —"

"—well, sorry I don't have perfect vision—"

"—don't need to _see_ to know how to make—"

"— _I CAN'T SEE, REMEMBER? I'M—_ "

" _—WE KNOW YOU'RE BLIND—_ "

"I don't know, Momo," Aang says with a shake of his head. He presses a hand to his stomach when it rumbles and glances ruefully at the unusable pot. "It's _just soup_."

**Author's Note:**

> as always, kudos and comments are much appreciated :)
> 
> thanks for reading!!
> 
> _ps come say hi on[tumblr](https://toesalignedarch.tumblr.com/)!_


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